


A Different Love Language

by silver_drip



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: Ron and Hermione are convinced Snape is bullying the new DADA professor, Harry Potter.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 55
Kudos: 518





	A Different Love Language

**Author's Note:**

> My first non-drabble Snarry~ They're my OTP, but only when Harry is an adult. 
> 
> Thank you to the House of Snarry discord for keeping me motivated!

* * *

Ron was a groggy mess. The first day of the new school year was always a blur from getting up so early again. Worse yet, it was their third year which meant more classes. Hermione was, of course, ecstatic. She was going on and on about the new opportunities they’d have and which classes would lead to good jobs after Hogwarts. At least Neville was with him in thinking she was being ridiculous. 

Something appeared under Ron’s nose and it took him a moment to realize it was his course schedule. Professor McGonagall made a noise and he took the parchment. He felt sick when he saw how much time Divinations and Care of Magical Creatures was sucking up. He wouldn’t have time for anything fun ever again. 

From across the table Neville made a panicked noise and went pale. It was too early to be freaking out, but when he heard Hermione gasp he knew something was seriously wrong. 

“Professor Snape is teaching DADA,” Neville squeaked. 

Ron looked over his schedule. Sure enough Snape was labeled under Defense,  _ and  _ Potions. 

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to  _ die,” _ Neville repeated, slowly chanting it under his breath. 

Ron could sympathize with that. Snape was a menace and had no business teaching. 

“How is he even going to teach two classes? Unless—” she cut herself off. 

Ron laid his head on the table, barely missing the scrambled eggs.

*

DADA was after lunch, followed directly by Potions. It was going to be a double dose of Snape, and Ron wasn’t sure he’d survive. At least he wasn’t a sweating mess like Neville. Hermione was trying to cheer him up, but Ron thought it was a lost cause. 

They had both courses with Slytherins, who were snickering and making fun of them. Ron would send off a hex if he knew Snape wouldn’t skin him for it. 

Outside of the closed classroom, Hermione gave up on Neville and stuck her nose in their new textbook. Ron was going to lose so many house points, he just knew it. 

The door opened and Ron felt like he was walking to the gallows. He took a seat in the back and to the right. Slytherins always sat on the left side of the classroom. Hermione nudged him with her boney elbow and he nearly cried out. Before he could, he followed her flickering line of sight. 

That was definitely not professor Snape. The man in the front of the classroom was wearing dark blue open robes and a posh suit underneath. He had large, circular glasses that were almost comical. His nearly black hair was a poorly tamed mess. He also looked delighted as the last students filed in. 

He introduced himself as Professor Potter and it became clear that he was loads better at teaching than Snape. 

*

“Snape looks like he’s constipated,” Ron whispered, despite the great hall being too loud to be overheard in. “Or he’s going to explode.” Snape was seated next to Professor Potter. “I feel bad for Professor Potter. The bloke will probably be dead by dawn.”

It was true. Potter was slightly twisted in his seat to talk to Snape. He was smiling as he chatted without response. He was either oblivious or suicidal. 

“I don’t want a different professor,” Neville grumbled. Ron had to agree. It had only been two weeks and he felt like he’d learned so much more than when Professor Douglas taught them. That old bag had been teaching for too long and had droned on almost as badly as Binns. 

“He’s competent,” Hermione added. “I bet he’d put up a good fight before Professor Snape murdered him.” Ron grinned. Hermione rarely made jokes, but when she did he felt something flutter in his stomach. 

There was a screech of wood moving against the floor. Snape had stood up and was marching out of the great hall. Potter was grinning before he turned to Professor Flitwick to talk. 

Yup, Potter was suicidal. 

*

Hermione was not nosey. Eaves-dropping was a horrible idea and was bound to breed misunderstandings. 

Yet. 

_ Yet. _

She really had come to Professor Snape’s office to ask a question. Taking all the classes with her time-turner was fun, but she refused to be less than perfect, especially with a professor who would call her out if she made even the tinsiest mistake. 

And the door was cracked open ever so slightly. Really it was Professor Snape’s fault. 

“I despise Potter with my very being. This is an institution of learning, not a  _ playground.”  _

There was a sniffing noise that Hermione recognized as Professor McGonagall’s disapproval. 

“Have I not been tortured enough?”

“Severus, you are being dramatic,” McGonagall said. Hermione almost giggled at her scolding him. 

But Hermione had taken enough of a risk, she’d cut out now before landing herself in detention. 

*

“I told you he’s going to murder him,” Ron said through a mouthful of food. “Maybe Professor Potter will come back as a ghost and haunt him. It would serve him right.”

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes, before she took on a somber look. “I don’t think Professor Snape would hurt him, but he can be quite cutting with his remarks.”

Ron snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“I just don’t get how Professor Potter can put up with it,” Neville said from across the table. He was ducked down slightly. Potions had not been pretty earlier in the day. “I think I’d go spare.”

Ron lanced a piece of chicken. “He’s the Defense professor. He’s made of tougher stuff than us. Snape is probably trying to egg him on so he can try to humiliate him in front of the whole school.” He took a bite. “I’d pay to see Snape have his rear handed to him.”

“Must you speak with your mouth full?” Hermione sighed.

Ron, as the mature third-year he was, stuck his tongue out at her.

*

Fred and George were running a betting pool on when Snape was going to murder Professor Potter. 

“He’s been stalking him, I know it!” Oliver Wood said. “Professor Snape is always around the corner during Professor Potter’s last class on Tuesday. He gives anyone who even looks at him detention! Like it’s our fault that we have to go that way to get to the library!” 

“He’s been grinding his teeth too,” George said casually. “I bet Snape is going to use him as potion ingredients.

Fred scoffed. “He’d probably melt his body in an acid potion so there was no evidence.” 

“How are we supposed to win if Professor Potter just disappears?” a second-year asked, surprisingly brave for approaching them and laying a bet. 

“A valid question, young one.” Fred rubbed his chin, his calloused fingers barely registering his stubble. “If he disappears and he’s gone for two weeks we’ll count his disappearance as the day of his death.” 

“Godrick help him. He’s minced meat!”

Percy, with his shiny prefect badge, broke up their conversation. Fred and George made sure to leave a dungbomb in his room when they passed it. 

*

Professor Potter was decked out in red and gold, while Snape was in his usual black clothing, but with a thicker robe. Whoever decided to sit them by each other during the Quidditch match was courting disaster. 

Ron knew his team had hardly a chance, especially since Malfoy bought Slytherin new brooms last year, but he was still cheering on Fred and George. 

Quidditch matches were also one of the few times that Percy acted like a real Weasley. He wasn’t that buttoned up, stick in the arse that Ron despised. Instead, he cheered as loudly as the other Gryffindors and didn’t even take points! 

“Merlin!” Neville sounded like he was choking. Ron slapped him on the back, not taking his eyes off the game. “Look!” He pointed and Ron swatted his hand out of his face. “Ron! Look!” 

Slytherin scored and Ron slumped. He followed where Neville was pointing.

Sure enough Professor Potter kept jostling Snape beside him. Snape’s face was red with anger, his arms crossed in front of him. He said something that was surely vile, yet Potter laughed. 

“Do you think he’ll explode the whole pitch?” Neville asked, genuinely worried.

Ron gave it a moment of thought. “Not with Slytherins winning.” 

*

Ron was serving detention for no real reason. Snape just had a bug up his butt and took it out on him. What was different than the usual cauldron cleaning that Snape loved assigning was that Professor Potter was there too. Not cleaning, but for some unworldly reason hanging around. 

“These poor little angels,” Professor Potter almost cooed. Snape scoffed. “Working their fingers to the bone as you sit here grading~”

“Do not impose upon me your foolish ways.” Ron peeked up from the cauldron he was elbow deep in. Professor Potter was leaning against Snape’s desk as Snape worked through a pile of parchments. “If you really have so much free time feel free to join the dunderheads.”

Ron ducked back down, not wanting to risk his detention being added to. 

“And take away all your fun? I’m not that cruel.” 

Snape made a brief humming noise. 

“When I give detention it is  _ constructive.” _

“Please go on and tell me, the  _ tenured _ professor, how to do my job, brat.” 

Ron exchanged a brief look with a Hufflepuff he didn’t know. What the bloody hell was going on?

“A simple spell can clean a cauldron. Why not have them prepare ingredients?” There was a thumping, but Ron didn’t risk looking up. Potter cackled under his breath. 

“I won’t let the less desirable students sabotage the ones that take Potions seriously.” 

“How are they supposed to get better without extra help?” 

“Perhaps I should have you take over my detentions, were your potion skills not abysmal.” There was a rhythmic tapping before a swatting noise. “Leave, before I lose my patience.” 

“As you wish.” As Professor Potter went by he made a subtle wand movement. The cauldrons all cleaned themselves in a wave of bubbles before stacking up neatly. 

Snape called out after Potter, who sounded like he was running away.

*

“I know what I saw!” Colin Creevey, a second-year Gryffindor said. Fred and George exchanged a look in the common room. Hermione and Ron were listening in as they (Hermione) studied. “He stole food off of Snape’s plate!”

“You’re mental,” George said, staring down at the ickle Gryffindor. 

“Just accept that you lost the bet,” Fred added. “No refunds.”

Colin stomped his foot on the ground. “I know I lost. Something more is going on! I swear!”

Hermione put down her book. “He’s survived this long.” It was nearly winter break. “Maybe we did miss something.”

Ron snorted. “Maybe he’s just waiting for Professor Dumbledore to find a replacement DADA professor before killing him.”

“No,” Fred waved his hand dismissively, “that would be too nice by Snape’s standards.”

“I saw Snape stalking Professor Potter the other day,” a fourth-year Gryffindor said, joining the conversation. “Maybe DADA exams will be canceled if he kills Professor Potter.”

“That would be brilliant,” George mused. 

“Oh! And if Snape got caught we’d be down  _ two _ exams!” 

Hermione let out a pained noise that was easily ignored. 

*

Ron and his siblings usually stayed at Hogwarts during the winter break. Part of it was because their mum always went overboard with Christmas and the other was to avoid chores. 

Ron also got to stuff his gob and have as many candy canes as he wanted. 

Yet here he was, Christmas lunch, mouth wide open and eyes as large as saucers plates and with his appetite gone. 

“Weasley, close your mouth,” Professor Snape snapped at him. Ron realized a clump of mashed potatoes had fallen out. 

Still, Ron couldn’t turn his eyes away from Snape and Professor Potter. Ron probably wouldn’t have noticed Professor Potter sporting a headband with reindeer antlers on it—if not for the fluffy velvet santa hat Snape was wearing. It even had a little bell at the tip!

At least he wasn’t the only one who saw it. All the students that stayed over break were either pointedly not looking at him or staring openly. 

Fred and George were whispering back and forth, clearly up to no good. 

Professor Potter was humming jaunty Christmas tunes, even swaying a bit and occasionally bumping into Snape. 

“Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, “it’s so good to see you embracing the Christmas spirit!”

“Indeed.” Snape scowled. 

“You should see the Christmas tree he put up!” Professor Potter bumped into Snape again, looking at the other professors. “You should all come over for a  _ cup of cheer _ tonight!”

“Us too, Professor?” George asked. Fred snickered. 

“Five points from Gryffindor, for cheek,” Snape said, his scowl somehow deepening. 

“Five points for Christmas spirit!” Professor Potter’s grin was almost manic.

Professor Dumbledore chortled and Professor McGonagall hid a smile behind her tea. 

Snape rubbed the bridge of his very long nose. 

Ron grabbed a handful of candy canes and ran off before Snape killed them all. 

*

Cedric Diggory was sore from Quidditch practice, yet here he was slugging his way to the dungeons—which was the opposite side of the underground where Hufflepuff Burrow was—to look for a book a younger student had lost. He understood why the first-year didn’t want to venture into Slytherin territory. Cedric was on alert, wary of any Slytherins that were up to no good, or Professor Snape. 

All he wanted to do was to soak his sore muscles in the prefect bathroom then sleep. It was Friday night, but he had to set a good example for the younger students and not let them slack off because they were missing a book. 

Cedric had already used  _ accio _ with no results, but the point-me spell was helpful. Sadly, it only gave him a direction and he had to wind through the dungeon corridors that were becoming increasingly unfamiliar. He was bound to find it, even if it took him all night. Thankfully he was allowed to be out after curfew as a prefect. 

He turned a sharp corner and blinked in confusion. Professor Potter was backed up against a wall; Professor Snape in his space and looming over him. 

With his seeker speed he shot a jelly-leg jinx at Professor Snape. He wouldn’t let anyone be bullied, even a professor. 

*

“Fredrick, I heard Cedric has been banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year,” George gossiped loudly, drawing the attention of the other students in the library. 

“Oh~ What did he do?” Fred asked, leaning in as if they hadn’t talked about it earlier. 

“I heard he saved Professor Potter’s life, that Snape had his wand at Potter’s throat and was about to cast an Unforgivable.”

More students were being drawn in. 

“Dumbledore should give Cedric a metal!”

“I know! Maybe he’ll be Head Boy next year!”

A Hufflepuff walked up to them, looking huffy. “Cedric would never attack a professor, and Professor Snape would never attack Professor Potter.”

Fred and George exchanged a look. “Have you ever had a class with Snape? I’m surprised we haven’t found Professor Potter’s body parts scattered around the castle.”

The Hufflepuff shook her head. “You two are trouble-makers; it’s no wonder you don’t like him.” 

Fred was gearing up for an argument, but George put a hand on his shoulder, calming him down. 

“Unless you’re here to make a bet, run along ickle badger.” George waved her off. 

“You know what? I will put down a bet.” She pulled out a coin purse from her robes. “5 galleons that Professor Snape won’t murder Professor Potter.” She put down the galleons.

“Easy money,” Fred teased. 

The Hufflepuff huffled and puffed before leaving.

*

Neville was on edge. That was far from being new. 

“You all did great on your essays,” Professor Potter said from the front of the classroom. “As promised we’ll be working with a real boggart today.”

Neville sank in his seat. The other Gryffindors looked excited. Once again Neville was reminded he was such a scaredy-cat despite being a Gryffindor. His mum called him her little lion though… At least the Slytherins were wary. 

Professor Potter showed them the spell. They all practiced the wand motion. Neville’s anxiety just kept building. 

“We’ll be going in alphabetical order, so form a line,” he instructed. 

Hermione’s arm shot up.

“Ms. Granger?” Professor Potter asked while the other students started moving.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we all faced it at once, so that it didn’t know who to target?” She poised her quill to write his answer.

“That is correct, Ms. Granger. Two points for Gryffindor. When dealing with a boggart it is easier to do so with a group, but for this exercise we’re assuming you’re alone.” She scribbled down his response. “We’ll go one by one with the rest of you standing outside the classroom.” He gave them a rare, stern look. “Be good or I’ll have to get Professor Snape.” He winked at them. It was one of his favorite jokes, but still sent a bolt of fear through Neville. 

He turned his back to them and levitated a chained shut armoire to the front of the room. 

Outside of the classroom Neville was a sweaty mess. Hermione tried reassuring him, but Neville could barely hear her. The Slytherins were of no help.

The line kept getting shorter. Students came back out as pale as sheets, one laughed, but it sounded like crying, and even Hermione was terse when she got back. 

It was his turn. He couldn’t bring himself to open the door. 

A moment later, Professor Potter peeked out the door. “No worries, Mr. Longbottom. I’ll be right here.”

Neville gulped before walking to his death. 

Professor Potter closed the door behind him, the click making Neville jump.

“Three, two, one.” The armoire opened slowly. Neville raised his wand—and nearly dropped it when Professor Snape came out. Neville froze. “You can do it,” Professor Potter whispered behind him. 

“Ri-riddikulus!” He felt the kickback of a successful defense spell. Snape’s black robes turned into Gran’s favorite dress and vulture hat.

Neville laughed and Professor Potter joined in. 

Snape took a step back before swirling and going back into the armoire. 

“Brilliant!” Professor Potter patted him on the shoulder, almost making him stumble. He moved in front of Neville then slouched on a desk, putting them of a height. “Between me and you, Mr. Longbottom, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen Professor Snape in a dress.”

Neville’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

“We went to Hogwarts together.” He winked at Neville. “Whenever Professor Snape is giving you a hard time I want you to picture this as hard as you can while looking him in the eyes. He might leave you alone then, and if not, my door is always open. I haven’t made a potion in a few years, but I got an O on my NEWTs and we can do some remedial lessons together.”

“Really, professor?” He felt like the hand of Merlin was scooping him up from a pit of inferi. 

“Really. Now go send in the next student, please.”

*

Professor Potter was the best, Ginny was sure of that. One of the other students looked him up in the school records and he’d been Head Boy in his year. Now he was letting students take turns on his Nimbus 2001. She had no idea how he could afford one on a teacher’s salary, but she wasn’t about to complain. 

She’d already gone once and was jostling in line to go again. It was so  _ fast! _ The cold wind had bitten into her skin, tugged at her robes, and stole her breath. 

Ginny felt alive and couldn’t imagine riding any other broom after this one. 

An ominous billowing of black robes caught her attention. She yanked on Fred’s robe so that he and George would stop goofing around. Gryffindor was already way behind on house points. 

The cheer was zapped away from the group as Snape drew closer. 

“Professor Potter,” Snape sneered, drawing his green eyes away from the student in the sky, “your favoritism is unbecoming” Snape gestured to the bleachers where students of other houses were watching on. Ginny hadn’t even noticed them. 

“Professor Snape!” His smile was brilliant and ran counter to the usual expressions that Snape invoked. Really, Professor Potter was too nice. Ginny really hoped Snape wouldn’t kill him. “Did you not get my note?”

Snape raised one very unimpressed eyebrow. “Was this note delivered to my inbox in the teacher’s lounge or was I meant to hunt it down.” Snape moved closer, looming over Professor Potter.

“Ah, well you see…” Professor Potter blushed. 

“Indeed.”

Professor Potter rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost bashful. “I’m letting each house try the broom on different days. I was hoping you’d pen a notice for your Slytherins for tomorrow’s slot.” 

“Hmm.” Snape’s hum was unimpressed. Without saying anything else, he swept away. 

Ginny didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Professor Potter gave them a grin.

*

“Who the heck is Sevrus?” Ron asked, not even pretending to study in the library. 

Hermione sighed and stuck her nose deeper in her book. 

“Professor Snape,” Luna said, her fingers ghosting over a small wooden totem that was the length of a wand, but five times thicker. Ron didn’t recognize any of the animals on it. “Severus Snape.”

Ron snorted. “Teachers don’t have first names. Everyone knows that.” He rolled his eyes at her. 

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to get them to let her study in peace. 

“Severus,” Luna corrected, her voice a little airy. “Professor Harry Potter called him that.”

Ron didn’t look convinced. “I can believe Professor Potter has a first name, but Snape is a dungeon bat. He probably formed from the bottom of a dirty cauldron that was left out too long.”

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Madam Pince said, having appeared from nowhere. 

Luna smiled and flitted away. Ron watched her with narrowed eyes. Had she just made him lose house points on purpose?

Nah, Luna was no Slytherin.

*

The great hall was emptying fast as students headed to the first meeting of the dueling club. 

“It’s a great opportunity,” Hermione said for the second time while dragging Ron from the table. He really wanted afters… “Ron, we might see Professor Flitwick trounce Professor Snape.” That perked him up. 

“You think?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “If you’d been listening at all during lunch, you would have heard that Professor Flitwick is a dueling champion.” She let his arm go now that he wasn’t trying to get away. 

“What if he uses a dark spell?” Neville asked, his eyes flicking between Ron and Hermione.

Ron grinned. “Maybe he’ll get fired! That would be brilliant!”

“Really, I don’t know why you two are obsessed with thinking Professor Snape is a dark wizard. Professor Dumbledore would never hire him if that was the case.” Hermione was using her know-it-all tone that Ron couldn’t stand. He was about to counter her when he spotted Malfoy and his posse. He didn’t feel like fighting him, especially not over  _ Snape.  _ Maybe they’d get paired up and Ron could show him what a real wizard looked like. 

They made it to the Quidditch pitch and Ron wasn’t surprised that nearly the whole school was there. They joined the other Gryffindors in the stands. They found a great spot near the front, a clear view of the dueling stage. Professor Potter, Flitwick, and Snape were huddled together—And was Snape grinning? Must be a trick of the light. 

Everyone quieted down when Professor Flitwick started telling them about the “fine art of dueling”. It was a complete bore. Ron just wanted to see Snape have his arse handed to him. Professor Flitwick let out one of infectious chuckles. “Professor Potter was a professional dueler before he took his talents to Hogwarts. We will demonstrate what a  _ real _ duel looks like.”

Ron groaned and he wasn’t alone in doing so. He really wanted to see Snape get what he deserved. 

Still, Ron got hooked after they did a hoity-toity bow then started flinging out spells. Clashes of colors zipped across the stage, slamming into each other and creating fireworks. The duelers barely shifted on their feet, moving only enough for a spell to fly by. 

There were spells that curved mid-air, others that broke into parts while still flying to the opponent, spells that knocked into the back of other spells, making them faster. 

Ron felt breathless. 

A snap of indigo and Professor Potter went flying backwards, flipping once and landing on his back offstage. There was a collective silence as Snape ran to him, then, “Harry!”

Snape performed a spell then another on Professor Potter before helping him to his feet. Snape drew him into his arms and then  _ kissed _ him. 

Ron fainted. 


End file.
